This is just my attempt to keep a journal. I'm not trying to be insightful nor thought provoking. You are probably better off looking elsewhere for that.

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Mad, Bad, & Dangerous to Know

I recently heard that Lord Byron was described as "Mad, Bad & Dangerous to know". While I don't know much about him this seems, to me at least, like an interesting reputation to cultivate. I guess the problem lies in that I don't think I could maintain all three for more than a few hours at a time. I probably go through spells where I hit two of the three for a day or two at a time, and I can usually hit at least one on a daily basis, but all three on a consisten basis might be pushing it. Enough of dreaming of being James Dean. Maybe I should just aim for a nice even Marlon Brando... prior to him going crazy of course.

I've been listening to Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane over the Sea. I can't seem to get it out of my cd player. There's something about the singers voice that really calls to me. Add to that the lyrics. Poetry, pure poetry. I have to admit that some of the lyrics are beyond my ability to comprehend, but the way in which they are delivered is more than enough to make up for my lack of comprehension.

The King of Carrot Flowers
Part One

When you were young
You were the king of carrot flowers
And how you built a tower tumbling through the trees
In holy rattlesnakes that fell all around your feet

And your mom would stick a fork right into daddy's shoulder
And your dad would throw the garbage all across the floor
As we would lay and learn what each other's bodies were for

And this is the room
One afternoon I knew I could love you
And from above you how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go

And your mom would sink until she was no longer speaking
And dad would dream of all the different ways to die
Each one a little more than he could dare to try

Damn, the tragedy of a seriously f'd family and the sweet innocence of first love all in a couple lines. How can you not just love that. It kind of gives a sick hope that tragedy and happiness aren't mutually exclusive.

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These are just a bunch of photos, dumped sans ceremony into the ether without heed of complaints about focus, framing, composition and un-brushed hair. Life doesn't wait for you to brush your hair. You can see them all in their unphotoshopped glory here.